


The Months They Spend Together

by ShadowReaper_912



Category: Just Roll With It (Podcast)
Genre: Fire, JRWInktober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowReaper_912/pseuds/ShadowReaper_912
Summary: Writing month! Each chapter will be a different prompt, with possibly more than one per day.(I’m not sure why I named this what I did either XD)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. Day 1: Memory

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter uses the whumptober prompt ‘Shackled’ and the JRWInktober prompt ‘Memory’

Sylnan didn’t think any of his friends would notice. People never did, and if they did they never asked. He liked it that way. 

So when Mountain had noticed the faint marks encircling his wrists and asked about them, Sylnan was sent back- years into the past. He couldn’t even remember how long it had been since then anymore. 

A stupid error in his judgement. Or maybe it was just desperation. Whatever it was, it had only served to make his life- and his  _ brother's  _ life- worse. 

It had happened on one of the better days in the Wharf- the sky still gray and miserable, but the smell of death was significantly less noticeable. Sylnan always took that as a win. 

He had woven his way through a sizable crowd, hands grabbing anything of value he could reach and stuffing them into his own pockets when a large cold hand slammed down on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. 

“And where do you think you’re going,  _ sir? _ ” A voice spoke from above him, and as he tilted his head back to stare up at the man, he caught sight of metal reflecting the dim light. 

_ Guard- _

“I- Oh. S- Sorry Mister, I must’ve… got lost. I’ll- I’ll be on my way… back home-”

“You ain’t going anywhere,  _ boy.  _ How else’ll you be taught that stealing’s wrong?” Sylnan remembered the way he had stiffened, gripping as many of the small coins as he could, trying to memorise the feeling of real,  _ actual  _ money between his fingers. 

“S- Stealing?” Maybe- he had thought- he could bullshit his way out of this, get home to Br’aad and just sit next to each other for a few hours. Safe. 

“Don’t play dumb with me. Come on.” The pressure shifted from his shoulder to a vice like grip around his arm as he was forcibly dragged through the streets, growing ever closer to the castle. 

“We’re- You’re not- not taking me to see the king… are you?” Sylnan had been on the verge of tears, and could practically  _ feel  _ how disappointed Ugarth would be if he found out that the half elf had been caught. 

“Don’t be stupid, that’d be a waste of time. I’ll just throw you in the dungeon, lock you up for a few days. Should set you straight.” 

If Sylnan hadn’t been so terrified, he might’ve felt more embarrassed about the undignified whimper he let out as they climbed down seemingly endless amounts of stairs, into a cold cobblestone hallway. 

“Some shackles’ll probably do you good too.” As the guard tightened the iron clamps around his skinny wrists, he began screaming.

He screamed until his throat was raw, to anyone that might hear him. Maybe if he apologised loud enough, they would let him go. Let him out of that dark room. Let him see his brother again. Let him take the shackles off of his- no doubt- bleeding wrists. 

So when Mountain had asked about those faint marks encircling his wrists, and Sylnan was reminded of all of those things he never wanted to feel again, he had simply smiled at the dwarf. 

“Something stupid.”


	2. Day 1: Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter uses the JRWInktober prompt ‘Fire’

Stupid coin.

After all of the games he had ever played with Ob’nockshai, Br’aad should’ve known something like this may happen. 

His fists pounded against the rough rocks, trying desperately to dislodge just  _ one  _ so that he could slip through. They wouldn’t budge though, and he could feel each and every gash on his fists. 

“Br’aad?” Someone- one of his friends- was calling through the wall of stone, their voice as desperate as Br’aad felt. 

“Go! I’ll- I’ll be fine. I’ll… find some other way out.” He coughed. Smoke was all he could taste, and if not for the bright, hot flames licking at his body, he wouldn’t be able to see anything. 

“We both know that’s bullshit! There is no other way out… I don’t know how to help, Br’aad.  _ Please _ … tell me how to help.” It was Taxi’s voice. Br’aad flinched at the sound in his friend’s voice, wanting to tell him that he’d be fine (again) and that he’d make it out (again), but then he’d be lying to Taxi… to himself, and he had never liked lying to those he cared about. 

“You… you want to help?” Br’aad spoke softly, not even sure Taxi had heard him until he heard the shaky response. 

“Of course I do, Br’aad! Anything. I’ll do  _ anything. _ ” The smile on his face was almost as soft as his voice had been as he gently placed a bloodied hand against the warm stone. 

“Make sure Sylnan is ok, yeah? I’d… I'd hate for him to think that this was his fault.” Br’aad rested his forehead next to his hand, trying not to think about how much he was sweating, how his clothes felt like they were melting into his skin. 

“I…”

“For me, Taxi. If not for him, do it for me. Anything, right?” 

“R-... Right.” Br’aad closed his eyes, slowly sinking down to kneel on the floor. 

“Guess I won’t have to wait 10 days to see you again after all, Syl.”

And as he sat there, surrounded by the fire they had lit on a whim, he was at peace. He almost didn’t hear the quiet ticking of a clock over the roaring flames.


	3. Day Two: Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter uses the Whumptober prompt “Pick Who Dies.”, the JRWInktober prompt ‘Royalty’ and the Flufftober prompt ‘Comfort’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t mean for this to get so long, I’m sorry.
> 
> (Spoilers for episode 10.5)

Cold stone.

If he couldn’t feel the fur of his tabaxi friend against his face, he could’ve been easily convinced that the stone surrounded him on all sides. 

“Wake them, Dominion. I want them all to see this.” The voice was vaguely familiar to Br’aad, but he didn’t get much time to think about it before he was doused in icy water that had him jolting up from the floor, groaning at the pounding in his skull. 

Glancing around the dimly lit room, Br’aad counted each of his friends in the dank room, as well as a familiar paladin stood in the doorway. 

“They are awake, my king. What do you wish me to do with them?” Dominion’s head was bowed, a hand resting against the hilt of his sword. 

“You! Step forward.” Br’aad glanced up, spotting the pudgy finger aimed in his direction. He wordlessly pointed to himself, feeling slightly self conscious under the stares of his friends. 

“ _Yes,_ you. Step forward, or there _will_ be consequences.” Shakily, Br’aad stepped over his friends legs, trying to block sight of as many of them as he could. 

Dominion looked Br’aad up and down, before nodding and handing him a small object. 

“Is… is this some kind of joke?” Br’aad asked, looking from the die, to the paladin, and back down to the die. He should’ve known the hit was coming, coughing weakly as he curled an arm around his stomach. 

“Nothing of the sort, mutt. We are simply… thinning enemy ranks.” The other familiar voice rang out, and as Br’aad glanced around, he caught sight of the manic eyes of Rigmund. 

“What- What am I meant to do with… _this?”_ He held the die between two fingers, observing the slightly odd way it shimmered, even in the low light of this dungeon. 

“Roll it, of course.” Rigmund encouraged, waving a hand as if to tell him to get on with it. 

Taking a deep breath, Br’aad loosened his grip on the object, letting it clatter to the floor. 

_7_

It stared up at him, filling him with an almost odd fear. All things considered, the roll could’ve been much lower. He was just grateful he’d gotten his roll over with. 

“You next.” Rigmund pointed at Taxi next, who was slouched against one of the walls. His fur was damp with water- possibly blood too- and he didn’t even look conscious. 

Slowly though, he reached over and took hold of the die, throwing it across the room as he glared at the king. 

_20_

Taxi felt his heart jump at the sight, trying not to look at the ever growing look of fear plastered on Br’aad’s face. That meant the Tabaxi was safe. Br’aad was happy for him, really, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was screwed. 

Velrisa was the next to pick it up, rolling it much more gently than Taxi had, watching the numbers quietly. 

_13_

She was safe too, then. Br’aad knew that was a good thing, but he couldn’t help the way his gut wrenched as his friends all rolled numbers _way_ higher than 7. 

“This is bullshit!” Mountain yelled when he was prompted to pick it up. He looked angry, and it almost made the tears welling in Br’aad’s eyes fall. 

_No._ Br’aad shook his head. All of his friends were staying strong- even if that relieved look on Taxi’s face induced some feeling of betrayal- he’d be damned if he didn’t try to do the same for them. 

Mountain growled when he finally caved, stepping forward and snatching the die off the floor, alternating his glare between King Rigmund and Dominion as he turned his hand and let the die fall from his palm. 

_16_

All eyes fell on Sylnan as Br’aad tried to ignore the small motion of victory Mountain made. Sylnan’s eyes met his brothers, taking in every feature he could just in case he never saw the other again. 

“I’m sorry, B-” He wheezed as Dominion stepped forward, punching Sylnan in the gut. 

“No speaking. Just roll.” Sylnan grimaced at the paladin, shakily reaching for the die. He held it in his hand for longer than necessary, blowing on his fist and praying to anyone that would listen that he-... What did he want? He _wanted_ to roll lower than Br’aad.. didn’t he? 

Shaking his head, he rolled the die before he could confuse himself. He needed to roll lower than his brother. 

_6_

Despite himself, Br’aad felt relief was over him, letting out a shaky breath as he and Sylnan locked eyes again. 

“Syl… no..” The younger half elf reached up to cover his mouth, shaky breaths leaving him as his tears fell. Dominion stepped forward threateningly, but Rigmund held up a hand. 

“Let them have their moment, Dominion. It’ll be the last one they have together, after all.”

Sylnan rushes forward, pulling Br’aad into a hug. 

“I’m sorry, Br’aad. I’m so sorry- I’m sorry I was never the brother you wanted, I’m sorry I could never _be_ that brother. You deserve so much better.” He was rambling into Br’aad’s shoulder, and the other let him, clinging onto Sylnan like a lifeline. 

“I don’t know what you mean, Syl. You were everything I could’ve wanted and more. I couldn’t have asked for a better brother.” For a moment, it was just the two of them. No one else, no promise ‘thinning the enemy ranks.’ Just them. 

Then Dominion stepped forward. 

“If you’ve got anything you want to get off your chest, _Vengolor,_ you’d better do it now.” Br’aad felt his brother's grip tighten for a second, before he pulled back, placing his hands on his brother’s shoulders. 

“I… I've got more regrets than I ever wanted Br’aad, and I… I feel you deserve to know.”

“N- no, Syl. You don’t need to do this- Don’t give me this speech like it’s gonna be the last time I see you!” Br’aad felt the tears beginning to fall faster, dripping against the stone beneath them. 

“I have to, Br’aad. It’s something I need to get off my chest, and even if you hate me after, just know that I… I always loved you. Always have, and always will.”

Br’aad didn’t trust himself to say anything, nodding instead. 

“I… When we were younger, we were struggling for money… I took a job- one I had hoped to never have to resort to, and I… it’s something I have regretted every day since.” Sylnan squeezed his eyes shut, not being able to meet Br’aad’s eyes as he told him the one thing he had hoped he would never have to. 

“W- What was it..?” Br’aad spoke hesitantly, seeing the way Sylnan was avoiding his eyes. 

“I had to- to befriend this kid- not much older than you at the time- and I- I had to take him to a warehouse, and leave him there.”

“You… _kidnapped_ a child?” Taxi blurted out, unable to stop himself and shrinking back at the slight glare Mountain sent his way. 

“I… _suppose_ you could put it that way.” Sylnan grimaced slightly, scared to look up at his brother, but slowly raising his eyes anyway. 

Br’aad looked _horrified._ He was obviously trying to keep his emotions in, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. 

“I… that’s not _ok,_ Syl-”

“I know Br’aad..”

“Why did you never tell me about this?”

“I was... scared- that you would hate me and leave.”

“Syl… I could never hate you.” The words shocked Sylnan out of his train of thought and he stared wide eyed at the small smile on Br’aad’s face. 

“Br’aad..”

“That was sweet and all, but I didn’t mean you.” Dominion held up a hand, the die poised between his thumb and index finger. 

_9_

“W- what..?” Br’aad was shaking now. 

“It would seem that this die had a fault. The marker was scratched off, making this 9,” Dominion turned his hand, showing the die upside down. “A _6_.”

“S- Syl?” Br’aad looked at his brother, seeing the look of horror in his eyes. 

Arms were wrapped around him once more, but they weren’t his brothers this time. They were much larger, much stronger. Sylnan tried to hold onto his brother’s shoulders, but he was no match for the paladin’s strength. 

“I hope you’ve all said your goodbyes and made your peace.” 

Dominion began to walk backwards, dragging Br’aad- kicking and screaming- through the door with him.   
  


A chuckling sounded out from the corner of the room, and all eyes were on the King once more. He grinned at the now Fated Four, an amused glint in his eye. 

_“Would you like to play another round?”_


	4. Day Three: Sneak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m aware this is only just sneak-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter uses the whumptober prompt ‘Held at gunpoint’ and the JRWInktober prompt ‘Sneak’

Everything about that job should’ve been simple. His sources had said that the target was the least observant person they’d ever seen- it would be next to impossible to get caught. 

Jacquot had come with him, keeping watch as Sylnan crept through the house, stuffing his pockets with anything that looked even remotely valuable. 

For a second, the half elf thought he heard someone running. 

“Jacquot?” He called out quietly, hesitantly. Going back to the window he had entered from, he saw that it had been closed and locked, a small handwritten note stuck to the outside. 

“Asshole.” He mumbled to himself, squinting at the fancy writing as if that would suddenly bake him literate. 

Sylnan heard more footsteps, tensing as he realised they were approaching him from behind, from  _ inside  _ the house. 

He frantically searched the room for a hiding place- somewhere he could wait until it was safe for him to sneak out- but as he was on his knees, trying to crawl under a small desk, he heard a quiet click behind him, and felt cold metal pressing against the back of his skull. 

“Hands in the air,  _ thief. _ ” Sylnan raised his hands into the air, desperately trying to hide how badly he was shaking. Had their sources been wrong? There was no way this man could’ve heard him- he had been so careful. 

“Bloody rascals. I’d kill you right now- rid the streets of another one of your lot- but that foreign kid told me not to hurt you  _ too  _ badly.”

“Wh- What..? Jacquot?” Sylnan tried to blink the tears from his eyes, the realisation that his partner- someone he was starting to consider a friend- had ratted him out. Probably took a reward from the man too, that prick. 

Sylnan was so deep in thought, he almost missed the man’s next words. 

“I never liked taking orders from foreign brats.”


	5. Day Four: Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter uses the whumptober prompt ‘Collapsed Building’ and the JRWInktober prompt ‘Monster’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight spoilers from Season 2 Episode 9

The crumbling of stone filled his ears, dust stinging at his slowly blinking eyes. 

Br’aad groaned softly. His mind felt hazy, barely able to recall what had happened- how he had ended up with a building on top of him. 

That  _ was  _ what it was, right? It felt solid, and unbelievably heavy. Various chunks pinned him down, and Br’aad was sure that even if he could push the piles off of his body, he wouldn’t be able to get anywhere. 

His vest- if it could even be called that anymore- was torn to pieces, shreds barely sticking to the blood soaking his back. His pants probably weren’t in a much better condition, but he couldn’t feel his legs properly, let alone see them.

Coughing, he winced at the tight feeling in his chest- like if he breathed too deeply, he would- for lack of a better word- pop. 

He strained to listen to his surroundings, praying to any deity he could think of that his friends were looking for him. Though they were faint, he could hear panicked yells, words spoken too quietly for him to make out. 

Even with that feeling in his chest, he tried to yell. Br’aad was almost sure he would’ve coughed up a lung if he could, his abdomen burning even more when the coughing subsided. 

“Shit.” He rasped, trying to get more comfortable- to no avail. 

“S- Storyteller..?” Br’aad tried, expecting the lack of response but disappointed by it all the same. 

“Atrivial...?” His tone was slightly lighter as he remembered the joke he had made at the time god, chuckling painfully to himself. He also remembered the deity’s words, about not intervening, and gave up on trying to get his help. 

Br’aad rested his face against the rubble covered dirt, trying to smell anything other than copper. It was beginning to make him lightheaded. 

The half-elf knew he would regret this later, but the numbness that had claimed his legs was slowly moving upwards, and he could feel himself getting desperate. 

“Ob..? Ob’nockshai?” He wanted to smack himself at the shake that had worked its way into his voice. At the quiet chuckle and slight tick, Br’aad ran a slightly bloodied hand down his face. 

“You’re really gonna be like this, aren’t you.” He waited for a second. 

“Prick.”

Shifting- almost painfully so- he managed to wrestle the book he had vowed never to open again out from under the rubble, shifting to the page he was now so glad he hadn’t ripped out and burned. 

Br’aad tried his hardest to ignore the way his white pants had been stained red. 

Slowly, the half elf managed to draw that oh so familiar symbol on the floor by his head, having to use his blood to do so. 

“Never… Never thought I’d intentionally do  _ this _ again.” He was mumbling to himself, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t like anyone would hear him, would find him in time to stop his stupid  _ ‘plan’ _ . 

The words felt almost natural as they fell from his mouth, and despite the burning in his chest- his lungs- he kept going. 

Once he had recited the spell, he rested his forehead against his arm and waited. 

And waited. 

And  _ waited.  _

It hadn’t taken Ob’nockshai this long to appear last time, had it? Br’aad shook his head. His thoughts were beginning to blur together, and he was suddenly so tired. 

Surely he could nap before the deity would make his appearance, and before he could stop himself, Br’aad lost the battle against his tired mind. 

Jolting awake, the half elf found himself surrounded by water. It was almost comforting- something that had been so familiar to him before he had learned the truth and everything changed. 

“My son, I’m surprised! I hadn’t expected to see you again so soon.” Turning swiftly, Br’aad caught sight of Ob’nockshai, sat in an armchair and setting a cup of something down on a small table. 

“To what do I owe this…  _ pleasure?”  _ The other laced his fingers together, meeting Br’aad’s uncertain stare. 

“I… I was trapped- under… under a building? I’m pretty sure it was a building. It’s all a little fuzzy.” Br’aad glanced away, tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair he had suddenly found himself sat in. 

“I had noticed that, yes. What does your misfortune have to do with me?”

“I was… hoping you would help me.”

“Was there something wrong with the old man?” Ob’nockshai bit back, sounding oddly betrayed. 

“What..?” Br’aad met the other’s eyes once more, trying to decipher any of the emotions swirling within deep purple. 

“The ‘Storyteller’, I assume that’s what he's calling himself these days.” He waved his hands around. 

“Yeah, but-”

“So what was wrong with asking him, pray tell? He’s already saved you once, why come running back to me instead?” Br’aad was quiet for a few moments, clenching his hands together and trying to collect his thoughts. 

“...Because you’re the only one that would listen.” Ob’nockshai stared at Br’aad for a few seconds before chuckling. Quietly, at first- but Br’aad felt himself grow increasingly nervous as the deity’s laughter rose in volume. 

“Ob’nockshai..? What… what’s so funny?” The laughter cut off, Ob’nockshai pulling off his monocle and cleaning it with a small cloth. 

“What’s so  _ funny,  _ is how you are still so naive.” Br’aad stiffened, opening his mouth to respond, but an extended hand from the other gave him pause. 

“After all those games- all those deals, did you really think I would just help you? Out of the kindness of my own heart?”

“I- I was planning on making another pact with you-”

“ _ Please,  _ Br’aad. I already own your soul. What more could you possibly offer me that I couldn’t obtain myself?” The half elf moved to stand, grimacing as he noticed the straps over his wrists, keeping him against the chair. 

“You… You’re a monster.”

“I’m surprised it’s taken you so long to come to such a conclusion, lad. After all,” Ob’nockshai leaned down, that infuriating smirk plastered across his face. 

“If I weren’t a monster, I never would’ve collapsed that building on top of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0  
> The monster was he all along


End file.
